Hair
by Furtively Lethargic
Summary: -"Now you know what your hair does to me, huh?" JamesxPoppy.


**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own Night World.

**A/N: This is for LauraRasmussen (the former ItBeLaura3) because I love her and she's freaking awesome. ;D**

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><p><strong>Hair<strong>

Poppy looked at her reflection.

She was sitting on a chair in front of their dresser, staring at herself. Her eyes were really green, her skin pale and flawless, her body petite, her lips pink, and her hair . . . Poppy frowned and played with her hair. Her hair was curly and coppery-looking, never growing. But she thinks they grow.

Poppy North _is_ alive in a way, after all.

And living things grow—well, except for her. She categorized herself as an artificial living thing; still living but never growing.

But that doesn't stop her from worrying about her hair (even though it doesn't grow). When she was still human, she used to get a haircut at least once or twice a year. And it's been a year since she turned into a vampire. However, her hair looked the same—perfect coppery curls just resting on her shoulders.

Did it grow?

She couldn't really tell. If it did, then it's not noticeable. And if it didn't, then . . . whatever.

"Hey Jamie?" Poppy called, twisting a lock of her curly hair around her forefinger.

"Yup?" James asked, looking up from the book he was reading. His intellectual gray eyes studied her. He was sitting on the bed, lifting his head from the headboard as he watched Poppy.

"Did my hair grow long?"

He contemplated as he stared at her soft hair. James doesn't know whether or not it grew. He decided that since she never grows anyway, her hair doesn't grow either. "Um, no, I don't think so," James answered, leaning back on the headboard. "Why?"

"Oh I thought it did," she said disappointedly. Poppy wanted her hair to grow so that she could cut it every year. A weird habit, isn't it? Well, she thinks so too—but old habits die hard, so she can't do anything about it.

James knew that she missed growing. He knew that she pictured them having kids and growing old together. He knew that she missed being . . . _alive_. But because he was with her, Poppy didn't care about growing or having kids.

All she cared about was being together with him.

James suppressed a disappointed frown on his face as he watched Poppy sigh and play with her hair again. She grabbed a fistful of her hair and placed it under her nose, making a goofy face, before sighing again.

Poppy dropped her hands on her lap and stared at James via mirror. "I want to cut my hair."

He blinked and slowly got up. "Why?"

"I think it grew."

"But it didn't," James said. He didn't want to say that her hair doesn't grow because she's a made-vampire. He didn't want to hurt her feelings.

"Look closer. I _swear_ it grew! If not an inch, then probably half an inch!" Poppy argued, lifting the ends of her hair. "See?" she asked when he stood behind her.

James sighed through his nose and easily picked her up, sliding on the seat and putting her on his lap. She squirmed and he half-smiled. "Poppet, I don't see it."

Poppy crossed her arms, wiggling her hips on his lap. "_I_ do. I want to cut it."

"I think it's a habit. You know, when you were still . . . human you cut your hair at the same time every year," he said, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I do?" Poppy asked, surprised. She knew it was a habit, but cutting her hair at the same time every year? That's . . . a _really_ weird habit.

"Yup," he murmured, his lips replacing his chin. James kissed her shoulder. "When we were kids, I noticed that you would have shorter hair by the time fall comes by. And then when we were in middle school, you still do it. Up until high school."

"That's weird," she said to herself.

James chuckled. "It's one of the things I love about you."

"Being weird or my weird habit?"

"The first one. But then again, I love everything about you, don't I?" James teased, smiling. He pressed his face in her hair, inhaling her sweet strawberry-like scent.

"I still want to cut my hair though."

"Don't," he told her, tightening his arms around her small waist.

She seemed surprised at his answer. "I thought you love everything about me?"

"I do. And I love how your hair always tickles my face in the mornings," he whispered against her hair. James gently pushed her hair aside, kissing her nape. Poppy shivered. He smirked against her soft skin. "And I just . . . like your hair better this way."

"But-"

"It won't grow back," he told her. His soulmate's shoulders slumped as James kissed the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

"I know, but-"

"But?"

Poppy sighed. "I don't know. I guess it's hard to let these habits go, you know?"

Surprisingly, he nodded. "I know." Well, she really shouldn't be surprised since they have the soulmate bond . . . James gently fisted a handful of her curly locks in his hand and buried his nose in the hair he grabbed. James sighed through his nose again, this time, closing his eyes. "You smell _so_ good."

Poppy instinctively leaned on him, her pressing her back firmer against his chest. "Really? I don't smell anything."

"Oh? You smell like . . . strawberries for some reason," James murmured against her hair. He let go of her hair and softly pushed her hair aside again, slightly bending his head down to place kisses all over the back of her neck.

Poppy swallowed dryly, feeling the light touch of his soft lips on her neck. It was . . . what, arousing her?

To her complete and utter shock, she realized she was. And she loved and hated it at the same time.

Poppy loved the arousal (good heavens, she can never be used to the term 'arousal')—well, _her_ arousal—because the feeling was . . . good. The pit of her stomach was tingly and the need of his touch was almost . . . oh, what's the word, unbearable?

What she hated about this 'arousal' was the mere fact that . . . wait, what _does_ she hate about this arousal? Oh, right. Hormones. And the fact that she gets so . . . mind-fucked or brain-dead when he touches her like- like _this_!

"James," Poppy whispered, her eyes half-closed. She gazed at the mirror, watching him through dazed eyes as he slowly and gently raked his fingers on her right thigh.

James grunted, opening his eyes halfway before closing them again. His other hand was pulling her left sleeve down, exposing her shoulder. James slid his lips, leisurely, on her skin; lightly biting her bra strap before kissing her skin again.

Damn him and his lips.

No- damn him and his gorgeous looks.

Wait, no, damn him. Just damn him.

Damn him _and_ hormones.

Poppy's mind rambled about damning hormones when James softly bit her skin, causing her to gasp lowly. N-Yes. Just-just damn hormones. His fingers on her thigh stopped raking it altogether as he sighed through his nose once again.

"Sorry about that," James mumbled in a gruff voice.

Poppy closed her eyes. His voice . . . she never knew his voice can be _that_ deep. Deep and a bit rough. She always thought that his voice would be smooth and velvety- but she was wrong. She swallowed dryly again. "I don't mind."

James pulled her shirt back in place and gently stroked her thigh, eyeing the pale pink scratches he placed on her thigh. "I didn't mean to do it-"

"It's okay. I actually, um," Poppy paused and opened her eyes, watching his hand gently stroke her thigh. "I actually liked it," she admitted quietly.

But because they were vampires, they could hear it very clearly. James only smiled at her and kissed her cheek. "Now you know what your hair does to me, huh?"

"You were _sniffing_ it."

"Inhaling the scent, really." _Vampires don't sniff_, James thought.

"Whatever you say Jamie." Poppy rolled her eyes. She twisted in his lap and tapped his forehead. "Whatever you say."

"So you're not going to cut your hair?"

Poppy stared at him for a moment or two and then shook her head. "I don't think so. Maybe next time."

"Maybe I'll do the same thing next time to remind you what it does to me," James joked. Although he was a bit serious underneath.

Poppy would've blushed. Really. She poked his chest. "God, James! You're such a _guy_!"

"I love you, Poppet," he laughed, pulling her close to kiss her forehead.

Poppy smiled, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her small arms around his torso. "I love you too, Jamie."

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><p><strong>AN: Couldn't be too sensual. XD It was a bit awkward writing it, and then it's gonna be REALLY awkward for y'alls to read it. XD Anyways, this is for you Laura! ^_^ Hope ya like it;) Anyways, in the end, did the one-shot really relate to the title? Hmm, I honestly don't know…**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed/subscribed/favorite-d/whatever-ed this one-shot! :D**

**. . . review? It will help my mind clear. ;D**


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